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Posts Tagged ‘man’

Here, walks people wasting not a second navigating urgent missions. Without halt, in cycles coming to and from, fast and slow. We walk alongside the bobbing sea of heads and shoulders.   There goes a man who is in a hurry to catch his train. While the woman will just be in time to make [...]

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She told me that my father was another man, well I shrugged my shoulder and say “it’s okay”. But she didn’t know that I am writing my pain away. I came to a point of thinking about those fatherless children who lost theirs in wars, in car crashes…   I am still lucky, and better-off, [...]

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My hands perspire from the grip I need to loosen up.  Bringing in the air to these burning palms laid down from commanding- life directions in the intersection of good and bad. The right from wrong.  I twist and turn in indecision. Bending  and yielding.  Speeding up and slowing down. I try to break down [...]

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We walk along the beach to see the happy couples like us staring at the ocean. And see how the waves come and go subduing our blues, buried under the sand. Did we become a tourist of our own, devoid of pleasure on being together? We walk like solitary man and woman glancing sideways, avoiding [...]

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It’s a rope that won’t go, tugging left, tugging right. Strength upon strength, the hands bleed pulling in never giving up. While the feet keep raking deeper and deeper. Planting and churning the ground, taking a hold for something. Priceless. But what? A rope or for missing the line? You said you got the numbers, the [...]

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This man’s bohemian and the weird symphonies- the whining of fan blades; the sharp screams of children vibrating on the window pane; and the crackling sound of my bones tired of standing up, shuffling back and forth turning to see the bed tempting me to lay down, get lazy and do nothing.   And the [...]

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He stares at the frosted window, dreaming of pigeons in flight. Probing shadows in his oblivion while the neighborhood is asleep on this night bathed in blue light.   His heart refuses to surrender to someone else’s handwriting.   He’s an outsider, perhaps a victim. No one knows how he spent hours imagining a beautiful [...]

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